


Red Herrings

by SPARTAN047



Category: Monster Girl Encyclopedia
Genre: Cancer, Monster Girl Encyclopedia - Freeform, Monster Girls, Multi, Nonhuman, Tentacles, Titjob, ass, blowjob, kraken - Freeform, mamono, mild satire, one guy/two girls, soapy bath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPARTAN047/pseuds/SPARTAN047
Summary: Mark goes fishing for food, but is made the prey instead.





	Red Herrings

_Fetishes: soapy bath, nonhuman, blowjob, titjob, ass, tentacles_

 

_Tags: Cancer, Kraken, one guy/two girls, monster girl encyclopedia, mamono, monster girls, mild satire_

 

Mark walked down to the water for his usual fishing trip. The weather sucked, but complaining about it wouldn't feed him. Living near the sea meant that although it was very easy to find food you could eat, but it didn’t leap out of the water towards you. You had to go there, take a rod, reel and line, and steal something from the neighbours or pick it out of the sand to bait your hook.

He tugged out his pack from the jalopy he had come to the beach on, pulling his rod and hook out. Attaching the hook to the end, he checked the rod to see if it was working. He tried tugging on it when it didn’t roll down. Feeling around the handle, he realised he’d forgotten to fix the reel. He cursed, spitting out the wad of tobacco in his mouth on the ground. He groped in his bag for the reel. Finding it, he whipped it out and placed the central spool carefully on the rod, then wound the wire around it. It was done after several minutes of grunting, swearing, and throwing rocks into the sea. He usually forgot to put the wire around the reel after a good night’s sleep on Friday, since the only fishing he usually had time for was on weekends after working at the factory cleaning what others had caught. He sorted them out as well, although usually inaccurately, heedless to the complaints of his coworkers who insisted he get it right. He told them he could catch whatever fish they wanted as long as it was about quantity and not quality, or even a different sort of fish.

He stood near the water and flung his rod towards the sea. It hit the water with a splash, the bob bouncing on the surface. He picked out his phone and hit ‘Play’ on his music player, which was a mix of mixtapes, dubsteps, reggae, and electronica. He actually enjoyed the ones with some crude language in them, but not too much. A bit of swearing and sucking sounds sufficed, not a full porn studio in audio form. Unless he was actually wanting to listen to dirty talk, which was in the midst of actual sex.

He waited for five minutes, but nothing bit on the hook. Perplexed, he drew it in slowly and noticed nothing on the end. He took out a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly as he contemplated what to do. This hadn’t happened before, but there was a first time for everything. He tossed his hook after baiting a fresh worm on it, rubbing his forehead while he thought about how much longer he’d have to wait for a catch. If it took longer than a —

There was a tug on his line.

Mark jerked himself upright to alertness and started to reel it in. It felt heavy. He frowned in puzzlement as he tried to work out whether he was pulling in a wicker basket full of stones, which seemed to be a common theme for fishermen in the Arabian Nights. Dismissing the idea as a childhood nightmare, he dug his heels into the soft sand of the beach and pulled harder. His catch budged slightly, but not enough. He tensed his muscles, flexed his legs, and gave the rod a yank which send him stumbling ass-first into the sand. The bait and rod flew into the air, breaking with the force applied.

Mark stared in dismay at the broken rod. His paycheque wasn’t small, but it was coming next week and he’d spent everything on cheap booze. If he couldn't fish now before it was — wait, what was that he’d caught?

He saw an enormous crab on the beach. It defied normal expectations of what a ‘crab’ was suppose to be. It was almost his height, and had a reddish-orange tint to it’s upper half. Kind of reminded him of Kingler when he used to trade Pokémon cards, but he was sure this one was too big to train.

He walked around it, knocking on the carapace to check what it was like. It felt firm and hard to touch, and made a sound almost like glass when he used a fingernail to tap it. He noticed the huge pincers which could’ve grabbed a person and crushed them like a twig. Those were scary, but if this one was suffocating a little from being out of water, it wasn’t a problem. 

He walked around to the front and looked carefully into its face. The carapace had an oval face looking out at him, smiling a little as if he was the one she had been waiting for. Mark smiled back and took one of the pincers in his hands. They felt somewhat heavy, but the points weren’t sharp. The compound eyes of the crab body separated slightly as the woman inside leaned forwards to kiss his cheek. There was a slight giggle as she withdrew. Mark might have giggled if he was a girl too, but he settled for a soft chuckle and returned to checking her next claw.

It took Mark another thirty seconds to realise what he had seen before he jerked upright. He hadn’t been dreaming. He pinched himself and looked again, but it didn’t change. He was looking at a woman inside the carapace, and a very busty one.

The cancer stretched and yawned, looking around as if checking for competition. She held up Mark’s hands. He noticed that her claws had locked themselves around his wrists. He was hoisted into the air, kicking and writhing. He tried kicking her nose, but it didn’t work. He was kept just out of reach of her body. She turned him around slowly, raising her claws. He heard some ripping sounds and a draught of air on his back. The claws went around to his front, shredding his shirt from both ends. It fell off in pieces, his back starting to freeze a little from the chill. He felt two round, soft orbs pressing into his back, rubbing up and down his spine.

‘Shhhhh,’ whispered the cancer soothingly. ‘I’m not here to hurt you, I just thought you’d like a bath after having to fish for your food for this long.’

Mark blinked at her words, before realising what she was implying. ‘You … you watched me ever since I came here?’

‘Oh, no,’ she said, reaching around to aim one of her open claws at him. Bubbles began streaming out of the depths of a dark hole in her claw which he couldn't see. She moved it up and down his body, the stream of bubbles hitting his bare skin and making invisible energy rise from it. She could see it with her enhanced mamono vision, but he couldn’t. She was washing off the stench of other women she could see, thought fortunately for her no other mamono had touched him. ‘We moved in here a few weeks ago and watched you come here for fish every day. You looked so hard-working, handsome and without the grumpiness we notice from other people who arrive here. We just had to have you for that very reason, you see.’

Mark leaned back into her soft breasts, noticing that they were rather large for a ‘cancerous’ mamono. He had seen pictures of her in one of the neighbour’s magazines, though, and the DP there had showed something like a lolicon with tiny breasts. The rest was in Japanese kanji around the picture which he’d never learned. ’How come you feel so huge against my back?’

The cancer laughed softly, her pincers clattering noisily while her body shook. ‘You probably came across a picture of me somewhere in one of your human inventions, yes? All I can say is that every single mamono is different.’

Something else she had mentioned registered in his head after he had watched her rubbing soapy bubbles across his nipples. She was continually blowing soap on herself, then using her foamy tits to scrub his back. She would lean down or let her legs fold when she had to get to his lower back,. His pants had been shredded minutes before so she could place his leg between those foamy knockers and cover it in bubbles mixed with lukewarm water she was producing out of her pincers. ‘One thing … who else is with you? The one you said you lived here with?’

‘Huh? … said the cancer, looking around,’ Oh … my friend who’s spying on you.’ She took out a flare from her carapace which curled its claw inwards and handed it to her. She took it in her human arm and tossed it on the beach. The flare lit up, sending a signal several feet into the air.

Mark blinked. ‘Where —’

The cancer pulled him back into her arms. ‘Stole it from a shipwreck months ago, darling. Don't talk now, just relax.’

She continued to rub his body for a few minutes after that. Running a hand up and down his chest, she used her fingers to rub around his nipples. She heard him moaning when she tugged on this nubs, so she continued doing it. She used her pincers to pin him to her body firmly, her tongue licking across his back. Tasting his skin, she grabbed a tissue from another stolen hoard of picnickers who had set up a table on her when she was buried in the sand to hunt. She wiped her mouth and threw it into the ocean. He still smelled too much like other girls, so it wouldn't do.

She raised her hands into the air and moved them around in a heart shape. Her pincers twitched and bubbles streamed out into the air all around Mark. They popped on his skin and left foam flecks across his shoulders and back, which she began massaging into him. The bubbles formed a perfect heart around Mark, enveloping him in soapy goodness. She used her human hands to bathe him, reaching into the sea as well as allowing water to emerge from her carapace to spray him. He took it as a game though, amusingly enough, and started to splash her back with a mixture of water and sand. She restrained him using her pincers once more, then let the stream of water and bubbles envelop him completely. He leaned back on her huge breasts, letting lethargy wash over him. The cancer kissed his forehead, moving her mouth down to the bridge of his nose and cheeks while she washed him. They remained like this for a while, her breasts working like a sponge and his arms rubbing against her breasts, stomach, as well as running up and down her back while she pushed her boobs into his face and chest, making them foam.

There was a slapping sound behind him. He tried to get up and turn around, but the cancer’s arms were too strong to get out of. He felt something grab his pants and start tugging on them, almost snapping the belt buckle.

‘Now, now,’ said the cancer, as if remonstrating a disobedient child. ‘Don't pull his pants and penis off, it really hurts when you’re this rough. Be gentle and just —’ she released her grip on him with one claw, moving down to his hip and slowly slicing the fabric apart. She let go of his other arm, holding him again with the first, then sliced his clothing from hip to leg. ‘All right, that’s good now. You can slowly peel his clothes apart and get to his best parts now. But be gentle!’

Mark panicked as something rubbery but soft trailed along his legs and hips, finding the tears in his clothing. His clothes ripped apart like flimsy paper or lace, fluttering to the ground. The tentacles grabbed his body and started to grope at them like they were putty. He groaned as the tentacles gripped his legs and calves firmly, leaving a few suction marks there. The rubbery appendages finally reached for his briefs and tore them off his body without any checking. He felt them slowly fondling his cock, the tip of a tentacle travelling up his shaft. His hips bucked, and his rod stood up instantly. It was really weird compared to a normal woman’s hands on him, but he was willing to embrace this experience … if he knew who it was.

‘Now, take it easy,’ said the cancer in the same parent-like tone she’d used earlier. ‘I get that you want, or need to touch him, but you need to keep him pleasured throughout it so he doesn’t leave instantly the moment we release him. And don’t just focus on one zone of his, he has several places you can touch to produce pleasure.’

The kraken popped up in front of Mark, almost startling him out of his wits. Taking the cancer’s advice, she started to run her tentacles over his chest, wrapping them around his nubs and pulling gently. Mark couldn't talk due to the cancer’s tits filling up his mouth. They were firmly squashed against his face, barely letting him breathe or try to say he was running out of air. The bubbles were still floating around him, rainbow spheres appearing as the sunlight bounced off them. The kraken’s warm extensions started to reach up to his back, moving over them lightly while tightening around his body to massage him.

Mark’s whole body started relaxing with the stimulation he was receiving from so many hands and rubber working on him. He almost fell back on the cancer’s breasts when she adjusted herself to let him lean on her more. Her pincers streamed more bubbles on him, washing the last of residual energy on his body. The kraken massaged the back of his legs and lower back while she reached two tentacles down to play with his cock. He moaned as he slowly moved his pelvis up and down to match her pace. Those tentacles looked uncomfortable, but in truth felt better than his own hand or his other girlfriends’ snatches as it stroked up his length. He tried thrusting into it without realising what he was doing, making the kraken laugh as she massaged his butt cheeks. She slipped her tentacle ends on his cock tip and slowly rubbed the slit along with the glans slowly, teasing him and allowing his orgasm to build up. The moaning and rhythmic jerks of his body to her different tunes told her the pace she needed to go at, so she kept working on his penis steadily as precum soaked her.

The cancer nodded. ‘I think he’s ready to cum, dear. You can —’

She was cut off by a cry from Mark and a desperate jerk of his hips. A white, thick shot of cream flew over her entire tentacles which were stimulating him, hitting her upper body. She opened her mouth to say that he should aim more carefully, and got three or four spurts of cum in her mouth. She closed her mouth, sputtering, and swallowed it to talk, getting another few blasts of cum on her face for her efforts. She wiped his cream from her face, sticking it in her mouth and swallowing it. So much for self-control.

The cancer laughed. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it? How was it catching a different kind of fish today, dear?’

Mark waved away a stream of bubbles pouring out of her pincers, sighing as he leaned back into her arms to relax. This wasn’t so bad — something he could get used to quicker than fishing. The cancer began to rub her breasts against his back again. The kraken moved closer and wrapped her tentacles around him, massaging his shoulder blades. They moved their bodies closer and rubbed up against each other, Mark springing another half stiffy because of the two women’s soft bodies against his.

‘It was amazing,’ he said. ‘I don't remember anyone bathing me like that in my life, or milking my dry while making sure I came so explosively. What did you use? I felt like something was being drawn out of me.’

The kraken rubbed his neck affectionately. ‘Just some of our energy, if you know what that means. You might have read it in —’

‘Nope,’, Mark said. ‘But to hell with it, it felt good, whatever it was. I wouldn't mind experiencing it again.’

Blushing, the kraken nodded. ‘I think I can work with that.’

A few minutes passed as they leaned against each other to exchange some warmth, the sun beating down on them. The weather was still a little windy, but the sun was abating it to an extent. Mark turned to the cancer, slipping his arm around her waist.

‘You know, I really enjoyed that little Bubblebeam attack you did on me,’ he said, a mischievous grin crossing his face. ‘Could you clean me up again? It looks like we got all dirty again when I came.’ He pointed to the drying streaks of cum on the kraken, who blushed and tried to use her tentacles to rub it off.

‘Of course,’ said the cancer, raising her pincers. Bubbles streamed out of them, washing over his body and giving him the feeling he was in a big, warm tub of water with someone pouring bath salts on him. ‘Just remember this is a bubble bath, not Bubblebeam like you Pokémon lovers think it is.’ Mark looked at her, his mouth open to form a question, but she stalled him. ‘I see those cards you humans exchange, I thought it was quite amusing. It’s good to see you like some creatures who resemble us, though.’

‘What would my Pokémon be like, then?’ said the kraken, using her hands to bring Mark’s torso closer. She moved her lips to his left nipple and sucked it, then the right, her tongue moving the stiff button up and down. He sighed in pleasure as he placed his head in the cancer’s cleavage. If only he was on vacation for a few months to enjoy this every day.

‘Probably Tentacool or Tentacruel,’ he said lazily.

The kraken paused while licking his nipples and looked up at him, pouting. ‘I’m not cruel! Don't be mean! I have tentacles, but I would never be cruel with them by putting them up a guy’s —’

The cancer shushed her. ‘It’s just a name, darling. Work on his chest while I clean him up to mess him more, and you can milk his cock again.’

The kraken sighed as she reached two tentacles to Mark’s cock and rubbed it slowly, using the other to tease his balls right in the middle.

‘I choose Bubblebeam,’ teased the cancer as she washed Mark’s head and face with bubbles, turning the stream on his chest and then spraying his pubic area with it, making a foamy coating on it as well as the kraken’s tentacles. Their combined laughter filled the quiet area of the beach, echoing in the distance.

The kraken sighed in pleasure. ‘Your baths are the best.’

‘Mmmmm,’ said the cancer, her tongue stretching out to lick Mark’s ear as her head came close to his. ‘Do you think you’ve found better catches than fish today, dearie?’

Mark exhaled slowly and stretched his body out so his back was on the cancer’s boobs, and his legs rested on the kraken’s tentacles while two were still working on getting him semi-hard.

‘Better than all of them put together,’ he said, his eyes closing while the cancer and kraken slowly massaged and bathed him to sleep.

 

_The End_


End file.
